“You’re trying to tell me—”
“Yes.”
“You felt nothing when—”
“Exactly.”
“At all?”
“Not even a twinge.” She topped the response with a smug smile.
Well, hell. Here he thought they both were fighting back a heavy-duty case of adrenaline-fueled lust. Looked like he stood alone on that score.
“You’re not my type. Sorry.” The smirk suggested she felt the exact opposite of apologetic.
“Right back at ya, sweetheart.”
Cassie’s mood sobered. “And then there’s the fact we’re standing in the middle of my dead brother’s house.”
At her reminder, the mental door Cal had slammed shut on that news burst open. He could not wrap his head around Dan dying in a crash. The idea he arrived on the island too late to help his old friend rumbled around in Cal’s gut. If he hoped to understand what happened and check out Cassie’s claims, he had no choice but to tuck the loss and need for revenge back behind that door. Grief would come later.
“Are you listening to me?” Cassie pinched his upper arm. Whether she meant to get his attention or tick him off, she managed both.
“Damn, woman. What are you doing?”
“Trying to get you back to the subject at hand.”
“Which is?” He rubbed the spot where she twisted his skin.
“Dan. His burglarized house. Your break-in. The gunshots. Pick any of those.”
“You ever heard of trying to get a guy’s attention without giving him a puncture wound?”
“You don’t have any fat on your arm.” Her gaze moved over his biceps with increasing interest.
The woman clearly had lost her mind. “So you pinched me?”
“I pinched you to get your mind back on helping me. The remark on your lack of body fat was just that. A comment.”
To the extent he needed proof that women, as a sex, were nuts, he just got it. “Anyone ever talk to you about the concept of sending mixed signals?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She tugged on the hem of her shirt to cover the thin line of skin open to his view. “I was only making an observation.”
“Which was?”
A pink blush stained her cheeks as her voice dropped. “You’re muscular.”
She was embarrassed. That worked for him a hell of a lot better than sad Cassie or fuming Cassie. He could work with embarrassed.
“Uh-huh.” He squatted on the floor, looking for evidence from the shooting.
“What are you doing now?”
“Taking a nap.”
“Are you always this much of a jackass? Let me know now because there’s a gun or two around here somewhere and I wouldn’t mind using them.”
When she started looking around the room Cal figured it was time to end the verbal sparring. “Cassie.”
“What?” The word was sharp.
“Let’s call a truce.”
She went still. “Can I shoot you as part of this deal?”
He sighed. “Look, I’m at a disadvantage here.”
“No kidding.”
“You know the turf. You know the facts. Right now, that makes you necessary.”
“Please, all this flattery will go to my head.”
“I’m serious.”
“We’re even then because I’m annoyed.”
That much was obvious. Her voice had risen to a near roar. All traces of the weepiness she showed when talking about Dan’s death had disappeared. And Cal could not be more grateful.
“I think we should join forces, share resources.” At least until he had the background he needed. After that he’d get her to a safe place. One a good distance away from flying bullets.
“Fine.”
“That was too easy.” Even knowing her for only about an hour, he expected more of a fight.
“I have two conditions to this truce of yours.”
The woman would make a monk turn violent. “No conditions.”
“Well, then. Good luck gathering that background on your own.” Cassie spun around and headed for the door, her head held high. “Remember that the police turned this over to the feds and aren’t talking. You won’t get any help in that direction.”
Cal swore, but relented. “Man, you’re prickly. What are your conditions?”
She leaned a shoulder against the doorway. “First, and this one is the most important condition, I’m in charge.”
Yeah, now they had a problem. “The rest of the sentence better be, ‘of getting lunch.’”
“Oh, so you’re a sexist pig.”
He had wanted her attention and he got it. Better to keep her feisty than let her mind wander. “Some women find me charming.”
“I doubt that. And I’m not waiting on you.” She lifted her eyebrows. “Ever.”
“You’re not bossing me around, either.”
“Right, then. You have a nice flight back to Florida.” She treated him to a little wave before reaching for the doorknob. “Sorry you had to come all this way for nothing.”
This is why some men preferred dumb women. “Wait.”
She turned around and shot him a superior smile. “That’s the deal.”
“Fine,” Cal said through clenched teeth. “You want to be in charge, you got it.”
“Why do I think you don’t mean that, flyboy?”
Because he didn’t. There was no way in hell he was going to let her lead, but better to pretend than get a proverbial kick in the balls. “You asked to be the leader. Lead.”
“That was only the first condition.”
“The second is?”
“A deal-breaker.”
“I
